Living in Fantasies
by likeanopenbook
Summary: Not your average adventure. Two lucky kids meet the author they love most, and get the experience of a lifetime. A touch of romance, magic, and trying to save the skins of the British Wizarding World.
1. Chapter 1: Aeroplanes and Swanky Hotels

Living in Fantasies

Chapter 1: Aeroplanes and Swanky Hotels 

"Oooooh I can't believe this is happening….I can't believe this is _actually_ happening…"

I was too excited to be embarrassed at myself. Walking onto the plane that was bringing me to the one most amazing event in my life was just overwhelming, never mind that I happened to be traveling with a cute boy who was also pretty much a stranger.

My website had gotten the special attention of J.K. Rowling herself, and I was invited to London for the release of the sixth installment of the Harry Potter series, "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince". Mark, the boy I was traveling with, was also invited to this once-in-a-lifetime thing. He had a website, as well; one that I frequented often.

Anyways, we had both been contacted to come to the huge release party with Ms. Rowling, and once we both finished reading, we were allowed to interview her together!

We entered the coach cabin where our seats where. Mark, ducking very low so that his tall head avoided the ceiling, offered me to choose window or aisle seat. I shrugged at him. It didn't matter to me, so I slid in first, taking the window spot.

"You're legs are longer than mine," I said, "so the aisle will give you better leg room."

He adjusted himself, stowing his very thin laptop in the pouch in front of his seat. "You're probably almost as tall as me," he said, not looking at me. "If you want to switch at all during the flight just let me know."

"Thanks," I said. I decided the second I laid eyes on Mark that I was not going to mention anything about our height, but if I was honest with myself, I would have to say how incredibly delighted I was that he was tall. At five-foot-eleven, I was not used to guys being taller than me. Not cute guys, anyway.

We didn't get a chance to talk much through the hustle and bustle of everyone finding their seats. I was eager to talk to him, and it had nothing to do with his attractiveness or height.

Not to seem too eager, I decided to wait until after take off to start any kind of conversation. We were going to be holding an interview together, after all.

I never got the chance, because right when we were allowed to take off our seat belts he started with, "So you're from Florida?"

I nodded. "And you are from…Illinois?"

"Yeah."

"I have to say I don't know much else about you."

To my surprise he gave a sort of incredulous little chuckle. "Really? I just…a lot of people who go to Mugglenet find out who I am and stalk me on Myspace."

He didn't seem to understand why people would do such a thing, but I knew instantly. "Oh, it's because you guys put pictures up of yourselves on the site."

"What do you mean…?" he asked, confused. Then realization hit him. I couldn't believe it, but he was blushing like an innocent Dorian Gray. He cleared his throat.

I spoke quickly. "So tell me about yourself, Mark. Tell me about your site." To be perfectly honest, I had seen Mark's picture on Mugglenet I imagined him to be completely full of himself. To see him embarrassed instead was a bit weird.

He recovered almost seamlessly. "Well, I was home-schooled as a kid, and so I had a lot of free time on my hands. I got into web design when I was really young, and I guess I just taught myself how it all worked. So one day (when I was really bored), I decided to make a site for Harry Potter, because I really wanted to share with other people these great books."

I was again surprised by his speech. He spoke about his admiration for the Harry Potter books with no qualms. I was not used to this.

"Yeah," I replied. "My friend actually started the Leaky Cauldron, but after only a few months of running it he got tired and let me take over. I have to say I enjoy doing it."

We had to stop talking when the flight attendant offered us beverages and snacks. I just wanted a water, and Mark didn't want anything, but it seemed like the woman would not leave us alone. She kept going on and on about the movies and games and headphones and remote controls all attached to the seats in front of us, explaining each thing in detail. We had enough to talk about that we wouldn't be bothering with any of it.

"So where do you go to school?" he asked.

We talked about ourselves for the next hour. I found out that he was enrolled in his third year at Penn State, even though he was only nineteen, and in turn I told him I was at my first year at University of Florida, even though I was only eighteen. It was very easy to talk to him, and we even had each other laughing a bit, which was such a relief.

He told me all about his different involvements in sports and acting, and I talked about my singing and writing exploits for a while. But as I predicted it would happen, we came to the subject of Harry Potter sometime later, and stayed on that for a good third of the flight.

Without saying it straight out, it was made pretty clear that both of us held the Harry Potter series in our lives as something uniquely special to us. We spent a solid hour talking about the characters alone.

"Now Remus Lupin. That is a character of the ages," he said.

"Oh, I know," I replied, "I wrote an essay one time about how no one seems to notice how bad he's got it. I mean, being a werewolf in itself would make anyone depressed, and then he's lost every single one of his best friends after they all thought _he _was the one to betray them."

"D'you know, I thought I was the only person to think about it that way!" he said.

I thought about how the majority of my friends would have changed the subject abruptly if I were to start talking like this.

"The Marauders in themselves are so…exciting," I said, and he nodded.

"And Snape," he said, "as much as I hate him, his character is _so _intriguing."

We really went on and on. Finally, as our voices started to grow hoarse from talking, we agreed it would be a good idea to try and rest up a little bit. Once we landed in London we would only have time to bring our stuff to the hotel and grab a bite to eat before going to the release party.

And there would be no sleeping once we had our hands on those books. That was a no-brainer.

I curled up in my seat, trying not to grin absurdly. I was on my way to meet J.K. Rowling, I was going to London for the first time, I was going to be one of the first people to read the sixth Harry Potter book, and Mark was a really, really great guy.

Waking up to get off the plane did not decrease my excitement, but it did make my excitement change forms. Instead of muttering animatedly under my breath like before, I was now walking around completely silent, my eyes opened as wide as I could get them. Mark just kept saying "Wow," very quietly.

I had been to a few parts of Europe in my life, but I never had the chance to see any part of England, which was the one place I truly wanted to see. I just sighed heavily and rested my head against the back seat of the picturesque little taxi, overwhelmed at the magnificent things I was seeing through the windows. Mark was now saying "Oh my gosh," over and over again.

We pulled up to what looked like a very chic hotel and unloaded our belongings with the help of the driver, who was speaking in what I thought was the most adorable Cockney accent. I was trying so hard not to laugh.

After checking in and taking the elevator to our rooms on the fourteenth floor, an awkward realization was made.

"We have the same room?" Mark asked, staring at the door as if it would answer.

"Let's just see," I said, "there's bound to be some reason for this."

It was even more puzzling that the door required a slide card to enter, and each of us only had regular metal keys. Already I had quite a story for my friends at home; imagine if I got to share a room with this guy on top of everything else.

"Wait a sec," he said, dropping his duffel bag and shuffling through the paperwork in his hands. I plopped on the floor, still a little tired but grinning to myself.

He dropped various articles on the floor in his quest; a television guide, the hotel brochure, a restaurant listing, all of which I picked up. Finally when he made a noise of triumph (or something like it), I stood up, and he slid a card through the strange contraption on the door. As most slide cards work, he was only successful after both of us tried it no less than seven times.

The door finally opened to reveal a really luxurious sitting room with a kitchenette off to one side. An enormous television was waiting silently to be turned on, a sleek desktop computer sat on the desk, and there was even a little fridge full of wine coolers.

"Ah," I said, "Drinking age in England is eighteen!"

Mark had gone to the little hallway at the back of the room. Three doors were there: the one directly at the end of the hall was a gigantic bathroom that was too good for words, and facing each other were doors that led to bedrooms.

I was going to say something along the lines of, "Darn, so we _do _have separate bedrooms," but I thought better of it.

Instead, Mark said, "Did you know they were going to give us this nice of a suite?"

"I had no idea," I replied truthfully, and plopped onto my humongous queen-sized bed. "I guess we're VIP's tonight!"

We explored our individual bedrooms in silence for a few minutes until, "Do you mind if I put on some music?"

I set my laptop down and went over to his room, which was exactly like mine except everything was backwards. "That's cool."

He asked me what I wanted to listen to, and I told him "something exciting", and left to go get ready in my room.

Suddenly, one of my old favorite songs started playing loudly from his room, and I started jumping around, flinging my clothes everywhere. It was that famous song by Ok Go, called "Here it Goes Again".

He saw me jumping and I heard him laugh. "I love this song!" I said.

"This is a mix of all my favorites," he said, and I was beyond excited to hear a Harry and the Potters song come up next.

I wanted to hear the rest of his music, but I really needed a shower. So, attempting to be as quick as possible, I slid into the bathroom in my towel. I'm sure I just looked awkward, but whatever.

When I finished a few minutes later, the sound of The Shins met my ears, and I was elated. Other songs we heard included stuff from The White Stripes, Dave Matthews Band, and Queen. It was an eclectic taste, but it was strikingly similar to everything I listened to.

I hadn't chosen what I was going to wear, but I really wanted to keep my door open to hear the rest of his music so I threw on some shorts and a sweater. As I put down the kickstand, I got a glimpse of something that made me forget to breathe.

Mark was just leaving his room to take a shower, and like me, was only wearing a towel to do so. Like I said, I only got a glimpse, but it was enough. He was very fit and tanned, and well…amazing. I looked up again and saw his wonderfully carved shoulder blades and back disappearing through the door frame.

The bathroom door closed and I practically crumpled on the floor. I just sat there, staring at the wall, when a Death Cab for Cutie song came on from his room. The song is called "Marching Bands of Manhattan", and I happen to think it's one of the most beautiful songs ever written.

I sat there on the floor, listening to the most beautiful song in the world and thinking about the most beautiful boy in the world.

With a jolt, I heard the water turn off. I hurriedly threw some more clothes around and decided to go with something a little dressier than I had originally intended.

I closed my door for two reasons: one, to avoid seeing him again (because I would no doubt faint), and two, to finally get dressed properly.

In the solitude of my room (though I could still hear the Foo Fighters from next door), I cleared my head. It was stupid to be taken by Mark…we had only known each other for about twenty hours, and we would never see each other again in two days' time. With a final sigh, I figured it was foolish to let myself get to this point. Yet even though I was mentally convincing myself to forget about it, I still took an exceptionally long time with my hair and make-up.

Sometimes being a girl just makes me angry.

He was waiting for me in the sitting area, and when he stood up in his dress pants and shirt, he looked quite thrilled. I smiled, and in a very friendly way only told him he looked nice. He said the same to me, and we headed out together.

We had been given the suggestion to go to the little English restaurant that was about two blocks west of our hotel. I was glad to see that it was very fancy, so we were in no way overdressed.

We laughed over some unfamiliar items on the menu, and I was starting to relax. Mark _could_ become a good friend with how easy it was to talk to him; maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just keep in touch over the internet when this was all over.

When the tiny waitress came for our drink order, I did as Mark had dared me and ordered a glass of the cheapest red wine, all while maintaining a straight face. The waitress didn't think twice, and Mark looked impressed.

"Ah, what the heck," he said. "I'll take the same."

As we were sipping our delicious adult beverages, it hit me that it would probably look very much like Mark and I were on a date. Though I tried to push the thought out of my head, it was hard to deny what onlookers probably thought. A young man and woman, late teens, dressed up all fancy, ordering red wine and laughing together surely looked like a date.

I giggled as our entrees came. This whole situation was starting to look hilarious to me. One day, I'm an unsocial girl who barely leaves her dorm, and the next day I'm in London with the cutest guy I've ever seen, looking like I'm on a date but actually about to experience something even better, which is meeting my hero and reading her next book.

Mark was looking at me over his fish plate or whatever it was. I had the giggles, that was for sure.

"Wine make you a little tipsy?" he asked, grinning.

"No, it's just…I was just thinking. About some things."

He looked at me perplexed, but still grinning.

"It's just, look at us." I leaned forward a little and lowered my voice. "Doesn't it look like we're on a date?"

He laughed, too. Maybe the wine _was_ making me a little buzzed.

"Don't worry, though," I continued, "you don't have to pay for my dinner."

The waitress came up to check on us. Mark asked me very quickly if I liked coffee. When I said yes, he ordered us each a coffee.

I looked at him and the waitress went away. "You think I'm getting drunk!" I said, still giggly, but not really that drunk.

"Well, you are being kind of silly," he said. "And I figure we should be on our toes at the party."

"Do you know, I don't need the help of the wine to be silly," I said, pointing to my half-full glass.

"Maybe so," he said, smiling, and took another swig.

The release party was amazing. There were a bunch of famous people there, most of them English, but it was still really neat. Mark and I _were_ VIPs. We were introduced to some beautiful people by our own assistant for the night, and we constantly had glasses of champagne thrust into our hands. We took each others advice and decided not to drink it. We wanted to be in top reading condition immediately when we got those books.

Mark and I decided to go to the Trivia Table, where we were surrounded by a bunch of know-it-all middle school kids in polyester robes. The two of us answered every single question correctly, and at the speed of light. I was awarded a Quidditch broom, and Mark got a Time Turner. We passed off our plastic gifts to the kids in third and fourth place, who were no longer angry with us for taking their glory.

There was still about an hour to go, but already people were lining up for their books. Our little assistant, whose name was Frank but I couldn't help but think of him as "Jeeves", found us in the crowd and asked us to follow him to the end of the banquet hall where the party was being held.

"Mrs. Rowling would like to meet with you right now, if you do not oppose," said Jeeves.

Mark and I just looked at each other. He asked the question I was burning to know: "Will we still get our books at midnight?"

Our Jeeves smiled and bowed his head. "Right through this door," he said. I giggled.

Through the door was a private little sitting room, with ornate dressings and a crackling fire in the corner. I jumped, willing myself not to scream, when I saw who was sitting next to the fire.

J.K. Rowling herself stood and came towards Mark and me. At that moment I don't think I could have described my elation. She shook our hands with the warmest smile on her face, saying, "It's wonderful to meet the two of you. If you don't mind, would you please come in and have a seat with me?"

We did as she asked, and both of us sat very straight-backed on the couch next to her.

"I have a little surprise for you," she said, her eyes bright. "I would like to give you your copies of the sixth book a little earlier than the rest."


	2. Chapter 2: The Portkey

Living in Fantasies

Chapter 2: The Portkey

My jaw dropped in surprise. Mark stuttered next to me, "Thank you so much, Mrs. – Um, Mrs. Rowling!"

"Call me Jo," she said. I sank into the couch. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened in my life.

"Why – I mean, is there a reason we get the books early?" I asked.

"Well, you guys, Mark and Lisa, could have no way of knowing how important you are to me. You've done so much already, and I wanted to have a way to thank you." She paused for a moment, enjoying our beaming faces. "There are some things I will have to ask you to oblige," she said, becoming only slightly more serious. "You will have to return to your hotels secretly so that no one will see you with the books."

"Of course," Mark said.

"And also," she continued, "I will have to ask you to not be in contact with anyone until after our interview tomorrow. By this I mean please do not go on the internet or make any phone calls to let people know you received these books early. I'm sure you understand," she added.

We nodded, still completely excited.

"With that," she said, clapping her hands together, "I think we can get you a little present." She pulled from behind her chair two crisp copies of the beloved book, and handed one to each of us. I believe a tear fell out of my eye.

"Thank you," we both said. She smiled in reply.

Hugging our books very tightly to our chests, Jeeves, I mean to say, Frank, led us out a different door from when we came in. The door actually led directly outside to where a limo was parked, waiting for us. I just looked at Mark, who looked determined to read that book.

Jeeves was the one to drive us. He very wisely kept the lights on inside the cabin, and Mark and I immediately began devouring the first chapter.

I was making tons of little exclamations, mainly just gasping or saying "No!" what I had just read, but Mark was too deeply immersed to acknowledge it.

I hadn't realized it until Jeeves was opening my door that we had arrived at the hotel. I quickly finished the last page of the first chapter and noticed Mark was doing the exact same. I only briefly recognized that he was the only person I had ever met who could read as fast as I could.

We tucked our books under our arms, gave Jeeves a quick "Thanks!" and almost ran through the hotel doors. It wasn't easy in my heels, but I was far from caring if an ankle broke or what have you. The lobby was mercifully empty, but after all it was probably about midnight right then.

In a frenzy we opened our books again while we waited for the elevator, and again when we were in the elevator. Again with the running to our door while Mark unlocked it and held it open for me. I immediately crashed onto my bed, and got lost in the tale.

I'm glad I was alone when I finished the book, even though I'm sure Mark could hear me weeping.

Slowly I walked to the sitting area and started making coffee. The clock said it was 7:23 AM, and I was still in my dress from the party.

I stared at the coffee machine as it slowly started to drip into the pot. My eyes were burning, but sleep was not going to happen.

I heard Mark enter the room and sit on the couch, but I didn't take my eyes off the dripping coffee. Not until it was finished and I brought over two mugs to the little table in front of the couch.

He was sitting there, looking at the ceiling. His eyes looked red, but he looked at me.

"I bet you we're the only two people in the world who are already finished."

I agreed with him and blew on my hot drink. I knew that couldn't be what he was really thinking, but it was a good break from the silence nonetheless.

Finally, when I was about halfway through the mug, I decided to speak my mind. "It all…it all felt so real, this time."

"It really did."

We didn't have much else to say. There was something that had come over me when I was reading that book; like I needed to be there, like I personally could have helped. I didn't know if maybe my imagination was running away with me or the eight hours of reading had addled me.

"I think breakfast starts downstairs in a few minutes," I said, feeling surreal.

"Mmkay," he said.

I left him on the couch and decided to clean myself up a bit. I changed into some worn jeans and a comfy shirt and washed my face. After a few minutes he changed, too, and we went downstairs together looking thoroughly exhausted.

We ate breakfast in silence, and finished rather quickly. Our talking finally did start when we got back to the room and sat together on the couch.

"I feel like I don't know what to do with myself," I said, curling up with the blanket from my bed.

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean," he responded quietly.

"I'm just so sad he had to die," I moaned.

"I can't say I wasn't expecting it, but it's still hard. I just really wasn't expecting it to be Snape."

We talked it over, but before I knew it we were both sleeping soundly on the couch.

I woke up that afternoon at around one, feeling like brand new. Mark, who looked like he had been up for a while, asked me if I wanted to go to lunch and then meet up with "Jo".

We tried the pizza place on the other side of the street. It was way more casual than the place from last night, but somehow that seemed so long ago.

It was easier to talk now that we had slept a little.

"Do you want to go over the questions we're going to ask?" I said over the gigantic onion-and-mushroom pie in front of us.

"Yeah…" he said slowly."But I was just thinking…Why do you think she gave us the books early? I mean, there were probably about a hundred other things she could have been doing right then, what with her book about to be released…" He kind of trailed off, but I picked up.

"I thought about that," I said. "And you're completely right. Why was she spending her precious time with us? Of all people?"

"Hmm.."

"I guess," I continued, "maybe she just really wants to talk about the book with somebody. I mean, since we're going to be the first people to ever ask her questions about it…she's been keeping this stuff secret for so long she must be dying to talk about it."

"That's probably it," he said. "It's still amazing, though."

"Yeah."

"Well, about the questions…"

We came up with a really solid list of things to ask her together, and I was starting to get excited again. We had been given a number to call when we were ready to meet with her for our personal interview, and no less than fifteen minutes later, an SUV came to pick us up.

It was really a nice little set up she had for us. We were at the hotel she was staying at, and in a private room on the first floor. Her hotel was surprisingly even nicer than ours.

She looked as excited as I felt. We made our introductions and "thank you"s very politely and eagerly and then set up our recording equipment.

The first few minutes could have all been summed up as a giant "Wow!" from the two of us. We literally gushed about the book. After that, it turned into more of a conversation than an interview. "Jo" was really easy to talk to, and she asked us just as many questions as we asked her. There were many things we asked about that she had to smile consolably and tell us that she just couldn't reveal those things, like when we asked if Snape was really good like Dumbledore tried to make them all believe. Finally we got to the romantic portions of the story. She seemed absolutely on edge to see what we thought of Harry and Ginny's relationship, and then with Lupin and Tonks. Overall it was a really fun time, the three of us getting along like old friends.

Sadly, when our two hours were up, Mark concluded the interview by saying what an incredible pleasure it was to experience all of this, and how we couldn't wait for it to happen one more time.

All the recording devices were turned off, but for some reason Jo wasn't getting up from her chair. Mark and I were both standing; obviously ready to say the sad goodbyes we knew would come. But Jo still sat there, smiling.

"Sit back down, you two," she said very gently.

We obliged. Maybe she had a few off-the-record things for us?

"I told you how very special you are to me, how much you've done with your websites and intellect. Well, there's another reason as to why you're so special."

She paused and took a deep breath. "I have something to ask both of you. Something I would really like to know. If this world, which you have so thoroughly read about, is real, would you want to be a part of it?"

It was odd how she was asking this question, but I immediately responded, "I really would."

"Me too," Mark said.

Her face changed a bit, though it was still smiling excitedly. I was a little confused.

"What if I were to tell you that it _is_ real."

There was a thick silence around us. Of course I had spent years imagining that the wizarding world was real…there was my lack of social life to prove it. I somehow got the feeling that Mark was thinking the same thing, except without the part about no social life.

I said nothing. I guess I don't know exactly what was going on in Mark's brain, but he felt the need to say something. "You created it, on paper. It's real in all of our imaginations."

Jo was now looking down, but not with an unpleasant look. "It's a true story. It's happening right now. And if you want, I can make you a part of it."

I was starting to feel as if maybe I hadn't slept in a few days, and my brain was really feeling the effects. I looked at her skeptically, like it was some joke that she just wanted to see how we would respond to.

"I know it sounds a little absurd that this fantastic epic is completely real, but do you think someone could really make all of that up?"

I could hear Mark breathing next to me, but I didn't look at him. I just kept looking at Jo like she was pulling my leg; because now I was just trying to keep my mind from working…trying to not jump to any conclusions.

"Would you go? Could you see yourself there, with those incredible witches and wizards? I can take you. I can make you fit in. You'd have a wand, and—"

"If you can take us, then why don't you?"

I was alarmed that Mark had spoken and interrupted her, but mainly at the defiant tone in which he addressed her.

She was smiling wickedly now, and I don't use that term lightly.

"You believe me, then? And you want to go and help them?"

"This is stupid," I said, unable to help myself anymore.

"No," Mark said, glancing at me. "If she wants to take us, then let's go."

Jo stood up, now looking businesslike. I was quite bewildered at this point. "All right. I have a few things I'll need to fill you in on. You will be arriving in London the day after the sixth book finishes off. You will meet a man named Remus Lupin at the underground station right outside of this hotel. You had been contacted by the Order of the Phoenix exactly one month ago with this letter," she handed Mark a rolled up scroll, and I honestly had no idea where it came from. What the hell was going on?

"You will not speak anything of the books, and I know you will use good judgment when speaking about your knowledge of the Order, and especially of Harry Potter. It is going to be dangerous, and I beg you to think before you act or speak. As far as magic is concerned, you will be equipped with wands, and you will have basic knowledge in performing spells. Things will come quicker to you than to other witches and wizards, because you simply haven't the time to catch up on seven years of magical training."

She took a breath and looked at each of us for a few solid moments.

"You don't believe me," she said, mainly to me.

"You'll have to forgive me," I said, not at all sounding like I wanted to be forgiven, "but it's difficult to just accept that what I've been reading about these fantasy kid stories is real."

She looked harsh. "You know they aren't 'kid stories'. They were never meant to be."

"Why did you ever write about it if it's all real?" Mark said. He was not angry like I was, but determined to solve the riddle coming out of this woman's mouth.

" Mark, what are you talking about? Of course it's not real!" I said, turning to him.

She smiled again. "I didn't think I would have to tell you this, but now you're really going to think I'm insane." She paused. "My brother is Albus Dumbledore."

"Yeah, you really are insane," I said.

"So he asked you to write it all down?" Mark asked.

I couldn't believe Mark was going along with all this. "Let's just get out of here," I suggested, standing. "We have our interview, let's go."

Mark wasn't moving. "Let's just see," he said.

"Will you help them?" Jo asked Mark. "They need you guys. They really do."

Mark looked at me. I was getting flustered. "Whatever," I said, "I'll play along."

"Good," Jo said, serious once more. "That letter," she said, pointing to the scroll Mark was holding, "will bring you to where you need to be." She looked at her Rolex. "It will be activated at exactly four o'clock this afternoon, which is ten minutes from now. Make sure you are both touching it at least 5 seconds to four.

"This is ludicrous," I said.

"Do you have any questions for me?" she asked.

What could I possibly ask her? When was the last time you've taken your meds?

"No," Mark said, turning the scroll over in his hands.

"I'll be going, then." She moved towards the door. "You'll want to read the letter now. Oh, and one more thing…Thank you so much for doing this. You'll understand when you get there. And be on your guard."

And she left us alone.

"Let me see the letter," I said, waiting to read the punch line.

Mark unfurled it.

_To The Academy of American Witches and Wizards,_

_As you may have heard through various sources, the British Wizarding Community is now at war with the revived Lord Voldemort and his army of followers. This includes (but is not limited to): Dementors, Giants, werewolves, and many wizards who are willing to perform The Unforgivable Curses to get what they desire._

_This letter is not so much a request for help, but a plea. We have been trying for months to get in contact with this side of the Atlantic with no results, and now we are in dire need of support. The war is soon to spread over all of Europe, and if you can spare any of your able witches or wizards, we will forever be in your debt._

_Thank you,_

_Minerva McGonagall_


	3. Chapter 3: Learning to Travel

Living in Fantasies

Chapter 3: Learning to Travel

**Author's Note**: Hello, everyone! Welcome to Chapter 3. I hope you are enjoying it all thus far. I wanted to mention that I wanted to get Mark and Lisa into the Wizarding World as soon as possible, and I guess that meant two very Muggle chapters before it could happen. You can blame it on my muse. And because of the late update, I would like to present two chapters at once! Yes, both Chapters three and four will be given to you today, and I assure you they have some good action. So go ahead! Read on!

I swallowed compulsively.

"If this is a joke," Mark said, "it's very elaborate."

"I think we just haven't had enough sleep in the last few days," I said honestly, but still unable to fight a little twinge that was making my stomach hurt.

"What could it hurt if we just try it out?" he said, staring very intently at the letter. "I mean, it's not going to do any damage if we just have our hands on here for a minute, right?"

I didn't say anything.

"It seems sad that the Americans aren't helping…" Mark muttered. "It sounds like they've been trying to get help for a while, but no one's showing up…"

"That's very sad and all," I said, "but let's just say we go, and they find us, and we have wands and all, what are we supposed to do? How could we possibly help them?"

"Lisa, we've had the books. We've studied everything that Harry has studied. We know so much…Think about it. That's why Jo said we were special. We know a lot about what's going on. I know we could help them."

"If this works," I said, "I'm never going to doubt anything ever again, in my whole entire life."

He smiled. "I guess we should both touch the letter, then."

I sighed heavily and rested my hand beside his. "If this is all a joke—"

"Then we'll be laughing pretty hard," he finished, still grinning.

It wasn't a second after Mark spoke that the room began to go fuzzy, like my vision was going bad. Instinctively I pulled my hand from the letter, but it wouldn't move. Mark was looking alert, but a sudden jolt of the whole room shook us both.

We were lifted into the air, and the room around us had turned into what reminded me of a wormhole from a science fiction movie. There was a strong wind blowing us somewhere in a whirl of colors and sound, and I thought my heart had stopped from either fear or the pressure pushing in around us.

Before I knew it I was falling hard on my hands and knees, everything was dark for a moment.

"What the hell…" I heard Mark 's voice, and guessed it was safe to open my tightly shut eyes. I was indeed on the floor, and when I tried to get up I simply fell over again. To my shock, it was the long garment I was wearing that was getting caught over heavy boots on my feet. When had I ever worn something like this in my life?

I managed a sitting position and took a terrifying look at myself and my surroundings. It looked like we had landed in a closed-off section of the underground system; there was no one around and a derelict subway train sat silently on the tracks in front of us.

I looked to my right to where Mark was sitting against the wall, wearing a long, dark gray outfit that just covered his boots. He was observing me, too.

"I guess these are robes," he said, though distantly.

I looked down at my own robes, which were dark navy. They were unlike any other depiction I had seen, not even the illustrations in the Harry Potter books. They were actually clothes, not the idea that everyone else seemed to have of a loose-fitting bath-type robe that was worn on top of a regular outfit. There was a long seam down the front with a pleat on either side, and I realized the top part opened along the seam as if it were the second layer of the garment, revealing an inner pocket where a saw a long strip of black wood.

"My wand," I said lovingly, and took it out. Now that I had a wand, none of this insanity mattered. Once I had it within my grasp I felt a confidence flood me.

Mark had taken his out, as well. "I wonder what they're made out of?" he said, mainly to himself.

"Mark," I said quietly, "this is the most amazing thing I have ever experienced."

He took a very deep breath. "I know."

"Oh my gosh!" I said in a frantic rush, "we have to meet Lupin! What are we supposed to say?!"

But Mark was calm. He stood up, and offered me a hand, which I accepted. "I assume we're supposed to meet him here…Jo said the portkey would take us to where we needed to be…We should probably think of stuff to say…What do you think?"

I looked around the dirty platform for answers. "We'll have to say something about where we're from…"

"You know, I never thought about witches and wizards living in America. There must be, though…"

"Why didn't Jo tell us what we're supposed to say?" I thought out loud.

"It seems like 'The Academy of American Witches and Wizards' would be a school or something…but I just figured the only American school was the Salem Witches Institute…"

"We have to say that we didn't go to a magic school. We just don't know enough," I said resolutely.

"Yeah, and it would be really tough to make up an entire school…at least not in a believable way. You know, we could just make ourselves sound a little better by saying that most American wizards and witches go to regular Muggle schools," Mark said.

"I like that. We could say how well we know how to fit in with Muggles, since we do."

"Okay, that sounds realist—"

A hoarse voice cut off what Mark was going to say. "Hello?"

We both held our breaths as we heard footsteps coming from a staircase around the corner. I inched a little closer to Mark, and clutched my wand tightly, though I had no idea what to do with it.

From around the corner appeared a man with gray hair and extremely worn robes, and my heart leapt. His face turned towards us and I couldn't help but smile and lower my wand.

"Ah, hello," he said, and reached out to shake our hands. I don't know why I hadn't expected it, but the English accent threw me off! I had never thought about it before…I must have always read the books with my American mind. I would have to tell Mark about this later.

"I am Remus Lupin, if you remember from the letter we sent."

"Pleased to meet you," Mark said, and shook the man's hand genially. "I'm Mark Wood."

"Lisa Hollander," I said. His hand in mine was extremely rough, and as he let go I shockingly remembered that he was a werewolf.

Immediately I was upset with myself for even caring. He wasn't going to cause any harm to us. I couldn't believe how stupid and hypocritical my mind had reacted.

"I suppose we can get out of here," said Lupin, and he bent over to pick up something off the ground near Mark. It was then I realized that we must have had some sort of luggage, and sure enough Lupin had picked up a large trunk, leaving a trunk for Mark. I was dumbfounded at the level of politeness and/or chivalry that was going on here, and didn't know what to do to carry my own trunk. I just stayed quiet as we followed him up the stairs.

We reached the main platform of the underground, and then more steps to the London streets. Sure enough, we were right outside the hotel we had been in only minutes earlier with Jo.

Behind Lupin I was not breaking eye contact with Mark. I had _so_ much to say right then, and Mark was the only person who would know what I was talking about.

"We've arranged for you two to stay with a wizarding family by the name of Weasley."

It was excruciating to keep from screaming with delight, let alone keeping my face straight.

Remus continued, and we followed him across the street. "They're a splendid family, and very eager to have you stay with them…"

I was no longer listening. The street looked somehow different from when Mark and I had been there earlier. There were…extra things added here and there…animals and things like that. I even spotted a few other people in robes.

I kept looking at Mark to see what his reaction was, but he was paying close attention to Lupin, who was saying that we would be traveling by the Floo Network.

We walked further along with our heavy trunks, and my eyes became very wide as I saw something across the street.

The ancient old building that looked wedged in between two regular little shops, barely noticed by those who passed by it…The Leaky Cauldron.

Traveling by Floo Powder was an even stranger sensation than the portkey, and I guess it had something to do with willing myself to step into a great, green fire.

However the landing aspect was just as bad as portkey travel. I toppled out of the fireplace, coughing and spitting and landing directly on top of Mark's knee. When my eyes got back into focus, I was able to look around at the most lovely little room I have ever seen.

The entire place was lined with shelves that reached the ceiling; they were packed with hundreds of books and trinkets that I could have spent hours looking through. With delight I noticed a shelf of moving pictures, like little movies in wooden frames.

Words could not describe what was going through me right then. I just looked at Mark and it was obvious that he felt the exact same way.

Lupin came out of the fire a second later, making sure we were both okay.

"I wonder where Molly—" began Lupin, but his question was answered when a short, red-haired witch bustled into the room carrying an odd assortment of items, which she dumped onto one of the chairs when she saw the three people standing in front of her.

Her face changed from someone in a frenzy to the most welcoming host, and she came towards us with open arms. "Oh Remus," she said in a motherly way as she hugged him. "You shouldn't have had to go alone, but there are just so many things to do around here…"

"It's quite all right, Molly," he said gently. His kindness was very soothing. He gestured to me and Mark, and introduced us. "I'd like you to meet our new friends, Ms. Lisa Hollander and Mr. Mark Wood, this is Mrs. Molly Weasley."

She gave us each very tight hugs and thanked us so much for coming, and apologizing profusely about the mess in the house, because there were just so many things to attend to…

"Ginny!" she called, and in came a cute girl with long red hair. She was prettier than I had anticipated, and I guess I still thought of her as "the little sister".

"Yes, mum?" she asked. She looked ready to help. I guess maybe she had just escaped from Fleur or something.

"Please show Ms. Lisa and Mr. Mark where they will be staying," Mrs. Weasley said, and busied herself with some of the items she had dumped on the chair.

We followed the girl through a scrubby little kitchen, and finally up about four flights of rickety stairs, where she questioned us unbearably.

"How old are you guys? You barely look older than me. Except you're both tall. Are all Americans tall?"

"I'm nineteen and Lisa is eighteen," Mark said, "and not all Americans are tall."

"How old are you?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"Sixteen." I was right. "How do you like Britain so far, then?"

"It's nice," I said, noncommittally. "It's rainier than what I'm used to."

"Why aren't you just levitating your trunks? They look really heavy," she pointed out.

Mark responded faster than I could. "Back home we don't use magic for stuff like this. And they aren't that heavy."

I hid my grimace. I thought my arms were going to fall off from this damn trunk.

"So why did you decide to come?" she continued her interrogating.

"We're here to help," Mark said. "Not many other Americans know what's going on over here."

"Oh. So do you _really _know what's going on over here?" she asked, skeptically.

"Well, we know enough to figure you all could use some help," I said. She was a bit sassy, but I tried to be nice. We would be living under the same roof, after all.

"Good enough," she said as we reached the topmost landing. "Dad added on some extra rooms for guests. You guys can pick which one's you'd like at the end of the hall there. And I s'pose dinner will be ready in a bit. See you later!" she said and skipped off.

Risking extreme embarrassment, I whispered painfully, "Mark, this trunk is so freaking heavy…I can't make it to the bedroom…"

"I just remembered!" he said excitedly, and he set down his trunk and whipped out his wand. "_Locomotor trunks!_" And mercifully, both trunks were lifted into the air and sailed gracefully into a bedroom at the end of the hall.

We both went after the trunks into a tiny little room. The only furnishings were a twin bed, a small wardrobe, and a little desk with a strange arrangement of flowers on it and two brightly burning candles.

Mark closed the door and leaned against it, and I sat on the hard little bed. We were both almost panting with excitement.

"Lisa," he said, "I just did magic."

I was eager to try. "_Locomotor trunk!_" I somehow made one of the trunks lift into the air and settle right down next to the bed so I could see what was inside it. I flung it open, and neatly arranged inside were a small selection of my own clothes, some extra robes of different colors, and a ton of books.

I picked up the first one, _Spells You Need to Know_, by J.K. Rowling. "Wow! Mark, look inside your trunk!"

He flung his open. "This is perfect," he said.

Other titles included _Helpful Potions, Everyday Magic, British Wizarding Life, _and to my surprise, _The Young Witch's Spellbook. _I opened the last book immediately. The table of contents made me laugh out loud:

Chapter 1: Introduction to Womanhood

Chapter 2: Easy Grooming Spells

Chapter 3: Menstruation Guide

Chapter 4: Intermediate Grooming Spells

Chapter 5: Dealing with Wizards

Chapter 6: Wardrobe Help!

Chapter 7: Advanced Grooming Spells

Chapter 8: Perfume Potions

I had a strong feeling that Mark had _The Young Wizard's Spellbook, _and it made me laugh again. We continued looking through all of the helpful stuff Jo had given us, when finally Mark said, "I guess I should move my stuff to the other room."

I had forgotten about that. As soon as he said it, I wanted to say something, but I wasn't sure what. It was just a sudden feeling that I didn't ever want to be separated from him, and when I thought about it a little more, I realized it was a fear growing inside me. With all these books and new things that didn't really make any sense to me, I was starting to understand why Harry's family, the Dursleys, would be afraid of magic.

"All right," I said, and went back to my books as he left. I wasn't able to read just then, because it was starting to become clearer how strange magic actually was. It was one thing reading about it from the safety of my imagination, but it was an entirely different thing to actually watch a trunk lift off the floor by itself.

I really wanted Mark to come back to my room. Sighing, I picked up _Spells You Need to Know_ and began on page one.


	4. Chapter 4: Thinking Fast Under Pressure

Living in Fantasies

Chapter 4: Thinking Fast Under Pressure

After about four spells into the book _Spells You Need to Know_, there was a knock on my door. I opened it up to see a tall, freckly redhead. "Hi," I said, brightly.

"Hey, well, uh, dinner is ready if you're hungry." It was Ron. Mark appeared behind him, and I waved happily. I refrained from pointing at Ron and asking Mark if he could introduce me.

We walked downstairs together and once everyone was introduced properly, Ron asked, very straightforwardly, "Are you two goin' out?" without any trace of embarrassment.

"No," we both replied.

"Are you related?"

"No."

"Just friends, then?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

We had finally reached the kitchen. Seated at the table were Ginny and Lupin, and a witch I could only assume was Tonks. The pink hair was the only thing that gave her away; other than that she was nothing how I had imagined her. Instead of spiky hair she had regular-looking wavy hair that went halfway down her back. She had a very sweet face and wore dangly earrings.

"Hello, Lisa and Mark," Molly Weasley said as she placed a bowl of potatoes on the almost-full table. "Please have a seat."

I sat between Mark and Ron. Lupin was smiling at us, and introduced us to Tonks, who shook both of our hands over some roast beef and cabbage, and then she proceeded to knock over a goblet of pumpkin juice. Lupin very quickly cleaned up the mess before anyone could notice. I tried not to look, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Tonks shoot him a smile. I was very, very curious.

"We're a bit light on company tonight," Molly said as she settled herself at the head of the table. "Arthur will be home in a few hours, and Bill and Fleur are at St. Mungo's. And we don't have our usual summer guests over," she said, looking at Ron lovingly.

Ron swallowed an enormous mouth full of food. "Hermione says she'll be spending some time with her parents, and you know Harry has to go to the Muggles—"

"I know Ron, dear." But Ron was no longer listening, for he had started on the roast beef. Ginny began eating, too, but only when I saw Lupin and Tonks begin did Mark and I even pick up our forks. We had picked up on the level of manners in this house.

The food seemed so much more delicious than food I had ever eaten before. Molly Weasley really was an amazing cook. Most of the conversation was between Molly, Lupin, and Tonks; and the subject matter wasn't much I could relate to. Until, of course, they started asking Mark and I questions. They seemed to know a lot about us already. Something about this suddenly hit me: We were strangers staying in their house, and they were okay with it. There was something weird about this…How did they know to trust us?

When we had finished up, Ginny and Ron left to go out flying, and it took me a second to bring my attention back to the table. Thinking about flying on a broomstick seemed like the coolest idea, and I couldn't wait to try it.

"Well, we're sorry there isn't much to do tonight," Molly said, cleaning up the dishes with a few flicks of her wand. "We wanted to thank you for coming, anyway."

Mark and I immediately broke into thank you's and whatnot, which Molly waved off with a smile.

Lupin and Tonks looked at us seriously, though. "We're having a meeting tomorrow night, for the Order of the Phoenix," Tonks said.

"Unfortunately, we're not exactly sure how the meeting is going to go," Lupin said sorrowfully. "I'm sure you've heard about what happened to Dumbledore…"

Mark and I nodded very sadly. "We're so sorry for your loss," he said gently.

Lupin just nodded his appreciation. "Well, we will be having Minerva McGonagall run the meeting, but only to elect a leader. She's the one who sent you the letter a while back, if you remember. But she doesn't want to lead. She's got enough on her plate as it is…"

"If you want, you can just sit in at the meeting tomorrow night, to get a feel for how it works," Tonks suggested.

"That sounds like a good idea," I said, thinking it would be best to collect information instead of having to participate just yet.

Lupin spoke again. "If you have any questions, or if there's anything we can do for you, we'll be here."

"Thank you, sir. We'd like to help out in any way we can," Mark said. He looked at me, and I think he was trying to communicate something, but gave up. "I think we should probably get to bed early, it's been a long day. Good night."

"Good night, and thank you," I said, following him up the stairs.

He started speaking to me immediately when we were out of earshot of the kitchen. "We need to talk. We have got to strategize here. There is so much going on that we are going to have to—"

"Mark," I said, unable to stop myself.

"What?"

"I think you would have been a Gryffindor."

He stopped, and a smile widened his face.

"But yeah," I continued, "we can talk and then can we practice some spells together?"

"Good plan."

We went to his room this time. Right when I closed the door he started pacing. Before he could start speaking, I heard a tapping on the window, and went to go see what it was.

Without realizing it I had let out a little shriek. Outside the window was an owl that was probably a foot tall. I had never seen an owl, ever, and being this close to one was way scarier than I had imagined it.

Mark had reacted exactly the opposite. "We've got an owl!" he said with enjoyment, and he opened the window to let it in. It hopped in and landed on the desk, and I noticed a tightly folded piece of paper attached to its disgusting little leg. I had no idea I was going to think owls were so creepy.

He took off the piece of paper and unfolded it, and the owl flew away. I shut the window after it as Mark read our letter out loud.

"Dear Mark and Lisa,

You're doing a great job. Please use the spellbooks I have provided for your advantage.

Feel free to tell anyone that American witches and wizards can barely be called such; just for your information, you were right about none of them really going to wizarding school or even making anything out of their powers. The majority of the wizarding population is in older countries all over Europe.

Oh, and if you were wondering, the reason no one has suspected you of being dark wizards is that they screened you before you even entered the country, and you both knowingly allowed them to place a charm on you that would let them put you in a sort of trial period. All the charm does is let them know if you've ever done Dark magic, but it only works when the caster is able to watch over you. I know you won't do anything stupid.

Thanks,

Jo."

"Actually, I was wondering about the lack of screening," I said.

"We should probably act a little more aware of those kinds of things," Mark said wisely.

"I'm surprised there was nothing along the lines of 'I told you so' in there," I muttered, remembering how skeptical I was this afternoon…

"To be honest, it's not hard to accept any of this now that we're actually here," he said, and started pacing again.

I sat at the desk where the letter lay open. "I think we should get our facts straight, I mean, we should know what we're talking about if they ask us questions. I'm just so scared they're going to ask me something and I'll just start stuttering like a crazy person."

"Well, we have our answers about American wizards right here, and we can always use that kind of thing if we get some stupid question…We can probably blame a lot of our shortcomings on being American."

"That's kind of sad," I said.

"Yeah…but it helps our situation."

"True. So…what else should we plan?"

"Well I was thinking about how much we actually know about Harry. I mean, we've practically lived inside his head for as much as we know about him. I think we can pull it off if we just ask a lot of questions about things we already know, so we don't seem like fools…I liked how you were asking those things before, even though you knew the answers. It's a good cover."

"Let's stick with that, then," I said. I was glad he was so intelligent. "Being foreigners, there has to be things we just don't know."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," he said, and looked straight at me, a very serious look in his blue eyes. "We don't know that Lupin's a werewolf."

"I know," I said, feeling that little bit of shame from before. "I wanted to tell you earlier, I was actually scared when we met him," I said in a small voice. "In broad daylight and everything, it was so stupid."

"D'you know what I almost did? I almost asked Tonks why her hair wasn't spiky. Can you believe that?" He laughed a little.

"This is not as easy as it would seem, living as a witch and wizard," I said quietly.

"It's funny," he said, finally stopping his pacing and taking a seat on the bed, "when I was a little kid, I always hoped a letter would come in the mail one day, telling me I was a wizard, and I would get to go far away…"

I didn't answer for a moment, but I empathized exactly. "I felt the same way growing up….I just always thought it would come the next year, that Hogwarts was a year late, two years late…"

"Look at us now," he said, grinning at me.

I felt so connected with him at that moment. It was so weird to think we had only spent two days with each other.

"_Accio spellbook!_" I cried, pointing my wand at his trunk, and a little blue book came flying out and almost hit me in the face.

"Good one," he said, and then his expression changed. "Oh, I don't know if we need that book."

I looked at the cover: _The Young Wizard's Spellbook_, and started laughing. "I think I know what's in here," I said, giggling. He took it from me, laughing as well, and handed me _Spells You Need to Know_.

We practiced for a very long time, both of us grasping things quicker than I had ever imagined. At around midnight when the candles were starting to burn low, we were both tired enough to call it quits. And though I had an appointment with a certain _Young Witch's Spellbook_, I did not want to leave.

I laid in my very warm bed with my eyes closed. I could feel a strip of sunlight across my face, making an orange light through my eyelids. I had been having the strangest dream. And though it was a scary dream, I did not want it to end.

I took a deep breath and stretched my legs under the covers, still keeping my eyes closed. Bits and pieces of the dream were coming back to me…I remembered J.K. Rowling telling me to call her Jo…I remembered using a portkey to meet Remus Lupin in an abandoned subway platform…I remember doing magic and being very good at it…and then I thought of Mark, and I smiled to myself.

Yes, it would have been nice if the dream was longer. I opened my eyes, ready to face my boring, average life. As soon as I did, fear flooded me. I did not recognize the slanted wood ceiling. I looked from left to right only to find myself in a very small room, and as I continued to stare at it, my breathing becoming heavy in panic, I realized that it was not a dream.

I sat up in the little bed and rubbed my eyes furiously, feeling a headache approach. As marvelous as it was to reminisce my life as a witch, actually facing it was going to be difficult.

I figured it was around seven in the morning. For a split second it bothered me that I didn't have a watch or cell phone to check the time, and then I became very annoyed when I thought of not having the internet. Rubbing my temples, I decided a shower would be in order, and so I went to the bathroom at the end of the hall. In the cabinet under the sink was a stack of towels, and in the shower a bar of homemade soap. I tried to clear my head, but the clanking overhead did not help in the least. I realized it must have been the ghoul that lived in the Weasley's attic. To my surprise, the idea of meeting a ghost did not scare me one bit.

When I got back to my room, I remembered the wonderful little treasure I had read last night all the way through, _The Young Witch's Spellbook_. I was so excited to try out all the handy spells I had read about. The first thing I did was a clever little charm that can make any surface reflective, so I performed that on the wall across from the bed.

Then, with only my wand, I brushed and dried my hair, touched up my eyebrows, curled my eyelashes, and moisturized my skin. It was _wonderful._

I looked through my trunk for some robes, and wanted very badly to wear a beautiful set of dark purple robes that had black flowers embroidered tastefully along the seems. I figured they were a little too dressy for a day at The Burrow, and so I chose plain dark magenta.

At the bottom of the stack was a pair of what had to be dress robes. I eagerly hung them up in my wardrobe, thinking with excitement when I would get the chance to wear them.

When there was nothing else to occupy myself with in my room, I contemplated knocking on Mark's door, but thought better of it in case he was sleeping. I went down the many flights of uneven stairs to the smell of something already cooking in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley," I said, trying to be as polite as possible. I hadn't forgotten how Mark and I were being watched, and I was also considering proving that not all Americans are rude and/or stupid.

"Good morning, dear," she said cheerily. She was wearing a floral bathrobe over a long nightgown, looking very charming as she flipped some bacon.

"Can I help with breakfast?" I said.

I was immediately glad to have offered, because she gave me the most pleased look. "You can set the table, if you'd like," she said, beaming.

"Is the room all right, dear? I'm afraid Arthur only added it yesterday morning before he left for work, so it wasn't quite a roomy as we would have liked it…"

"Oh, it's perfect. It's better than anything I could have asked for. Mark thinks so, too," I said. I hoped I wasn't being overly polite, but Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to think so.

"You are two very lovely young people," she said. "How do you and Mark know each other?" she asked innocently.

"Oh, um…" I couldn't exactly tell her 'Well, we both organized these websites about fantasy novels written about Harry Potter,' so I thought of something vague. "Our families have known each other for a long time." That should work.

Tonks came yawning into the kitchen, her hair the same as last night. "Good morning!" she said, and I briefly wondered if her and Lupin had shared a room.

"Good morning," came mine and Mrs. Weasley's replies.

Soon Lupin, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley had joined us. Mr. Weasley was very nice when he introduced himself to me. For some reason I wanted to tell him it was an honor meeting him, and I didn't even know why. I did, however, tell him how very thankful Mark and I were for having a place to stay at his house, not forgetting to mention how spacious the rooms were.

When Mrs. Weasley asked Ginny to go wake her brother, I figured it would be appropriate to retrieve Mark, as well.

As Ginny and I walked up the stairs together, I said, "I bet these boys would sleep the entire day if they were given the choice."

She smiled, and we chatted the rest of the way up the stairs. I was so very happy to be on everyone's good side.

When I knocked on Mark's door, he answered immediately, fully dressed and ready to go. "What time is it?" he muttered as we walked past Ginny, who was now banging on Ron's door.

"I have no idea, but breakfast has been ready for a good twenty minutes."

He hurried a little more down the stairs. "I can't believe I woke up before noon without an alarm clock."

We spent a short time formulating in the garden, and then snuck back into the kitchen. Sitting at the table were Mr. Weasley and Lupin, and with the looks on their faces I would have bet anything that they were talking about us.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and was as jovial as ever. "Ah, Mark and Lisa. Enjoying yourselves?" His question was innocent enough, and I didn't want to waste time flattering him.

I sat at the table and decided to jump in. "Actually, Mr. Weasley, we wanted to talk to you guys a little, to kind of prep ourselves for this meeting."

Mr. Weasley and Lupin exchanged a quick look, and I wished I could have known what they were thinking. I couldn't take the time to ponder how odd it was to be treated like an outsider in a world I knew in and out.

"Well, we'd love to help you," Mr. Weasley said. "Ask away."

"First things first," I said, trying hard to keep my nerve, "we've heard so much about Harry Potter."

I hadn't even asked a question, but Mr. Weasley had an answer. "You know his history from infancy, then?" We both nodded. "At the present he is the number one target of You-Know-Who. Both the Ministry and the Order have him under the highest security measures we can come up with, but suffice to say he's able to defend himself. Our biggest concern for the boy is that he is very prone to go off on his own…"

I sat there, astonished. Not only was Mr. Weasley analyzing Harry as if he were some mental patient, but he was afraid something he didn't understand…he had no idea about the nature of the prophecy, or anything that Harry was planning at this very moment, and I was in no place to explain it to him.

I looked at Mark as nonchalantly as possible. It looked like he wanted to say something, but knew better. I could almost see him organizing his thoughts as to what he wanted to talk to me about later.

"So, is there anything else? About Harry, I mean," Mark asked.

Lupin answered. "He was very close to Dumbledore. And since we haven't seen him since the funeral, we're not exactly sure how he's taken it."

"Dumbledore is another issue we wanted to discuss," I said.

I swear Lupin grimaced, but only for a fleeting second. "Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort—" Mr. Weasley did not shudder, but closed his eyes momentarily as if pretending not to hear the name "—feared. He was also the organizer and Secret-Keeper of the Order. Are you familiar with the charm?"

"Yes." Oh, if he only knew.

"It is one of the main topics we will be discussing tonight," Lupin said.

"So, in regards to tonight, is there anything we should know about the Order Members?" Mark asked.

Mr. Weasley took this one. "We've been gathering as many people we can, as you well know. We have a few Aurors, a few ministry workers, and all of the remaining members from the last war."

"Which," Lupin said softly, "isn't very many."

"However, though I was not involved last time, the preparations we have taken this time around put us in a much better position. We also have some wizards abroad that are collecting more followers." I wanted desperately to ask how successful that was going, but I thought of Charlie Weasley and changed my mind. The conversation was already rather depressing, and it was only going to get worse.

Mark leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. I knew this was a business proposition; our side would ask for something, and whatever they gave us would decide our next course of action. Of course, they were completely unaware how hard we were really listening. "So, we would also like to know about what we're facing. What steps have been taken thus far, offensively and defensively?"

Well phrased, I thought. Mr. Weasley explained the failure with the giants; unless you considered Hagrid's half-brother as a success. When Lupin started discussing his attempt at converting the werewolf population, the mood among us was miserable. And then, they broke the worst news of all.

"And as we discovered a few days ago, the wizard we considered our most valuable spy turned on us, and killed Dumbledore. His name is Severus Snape, and just for your knowledge, it probably isn't a good idea to talk about him in the company of Order Members. In fact, it's best not to discuss spies or anything related to the subject. But," Lupin continued, "we did manage a huge success last June. The prophecy regarding Voldemort and Harry Potter was destroyed, before he could hear it."

Wait a second, I thought. Weren't they going to tell us the major role that Harry played in destroying it? And how Mr. Weasley's youngest children had been present? And that Voldemort had tricked Harry into coming in the first place?

Mr. Weasley misinterpreted my frown as confusion, and so felt the need to explain the greatness of this achievement.

"Yes," I said when he had finished. I would have to change tactics and knowingly bring on another sad topic. "But my question is, did our side get to hear the prophecy?"

Mr. Weasley looked a little annoyed that I was pointing out yet another failure. "That isn't the concern. But so you can be well-informed, we did not hear the prophecy."

I was starting to feel terrible. I wanted to turn the conversation to something lighter, but could think of nothing.

"There is something," Mr. Weasley said, his jaw tensing in what was probably determination, "that we're in the midst of planning, but if you can understand how circumstances have—"

"Dear, have you heard from Kingsley about tonight?"

Mrs. Weasley had entered the kitchen with the family clock I had been waiting to see under her arm. I was further depressed when all the hands were ominously pointed to "Mortal Peril". I don't know why I was expecting anything else.

"He popped in a little while ago and said he's got the charms up already," Mr. Weasley said, polishing his glasses.

"Good," said Mrs. Weasley.

The three adults started talking about Tonks and Kingsley. Mark and I took the opportunity to convene in the garden once more.

Everything was tinted slightly orange from the setting sun. I sat on an old tree stump and stared at the ground.

"Mark…they're making it sound like they're losing the war…"

He was about to say something, but we both heard something coming from the direction of the house. It sounded as though Ginny and Ron were arguing about something. He spoke quickly when their voices disappeared after the sound of a door slamming.

Mark gave me an uncomfortable sort of look. "I'm getting the feeling that we shouldn't be spending too much time away from everyone. I mean, as important as it is that we can talk freely like this, I don't know if the suspicion is worth it."

"Okay," I agreed hastily. "You go ahead then; I know you have something you're dying to say."

"All right, all the stuff that they said is no real help to us, except I'm sure you noted how they regarded Harry?"

"Pff. They think he's hazardous or something, they have no idea—"

"That's what I mean. And we can't tell them how wrong they are or we'll be kicked out faster than anything. So what I'm thinking is we get to know Harry as much as possible, so we can help him."

"Okay, I agree with that, but we can't just ignore the Order. We have to help them out, too."

"Exactly. And it's going to be difficult, but both of us know the only way any of this is going to be solved is if those Horcruxes are destroyed."

"Oh! I have an idea! Oh! Just let me tell you so I don't forget about it later. I know how we can approach that subject with him. All we have to do is say we've spent lots of time, well, not lots of time, but we can tell him that we know that Voldemort _must_ be using at least one Horcrux, because that's the only way he wouldn't be dead!"

"Okay." He looked a little taken aback at my sudden excitement. I can't help it if that's how I work under pressure. "That's good," he said. "So, we need our objectives for the meeting tonight."

"We'll just have to go along with whatever comes up, and if it's something that can help Harry, then we go for it."

"Yeah, we'll have to think fast—"

"Which you don't have any trouble with," I said offhandedly, "so we're okay with that. I just wish they would have talked about this new plan that they have. I really would have liked to hear about it."

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough. There's one other thing we should talk about, though."

"Go for it."

"I think one of us should volunteer to be Secret-Keeper."

"Excuse me?"

"No, listen. I really think, if the situation comes up, it would show a real dedication if we were willing to risk that much."

I thought about it for a second. "Okay, we'll both volunteer. But we know we're not going to get it."

"So we're in accord? Great. Let's go back inside, we've spent too much time alone already."

I think there were about a million things running through my mind as we walked in through the back door. I talked politely to everyone during dinner to avoid awkward silences, but whenever I had a second to myself, my mind was wandering.

I thought about Mark, and our formulating. When he brought up the idea of us volunteering the job of Secret-Keeper, I decided to trust him. If we didn't stand up for each other's ideas, what would we be left with?

What would our new acquaintances think of us? Not only our ideas and attitudes, but I knew Ron's question about our relationship was probably going through everyone's mind. And to think…we had only known each other for three days. It felt like months.

I remembered the fancy little English restaurant from two days ago. That was only two days ago! I thought of the wine, and my high heels, and telling him it looked very much like we were on a date.

When I was brutally honest with myself, I wished Mark and I could have stayed hidden in the garden a little longer. I wished there was no meeting tonight. I wished we didn't have any responsibilities, and especially that we didn't have to work so hard to protect our innocence.

And to top it all off, things were not looking good for the Order. I tried to put it out of my mind, but their losses were devastating. Soon a gruesome cycle was going through my thoughts...their fearless leader was killed by their spy…their dangerous attempts at gathering supporters had not gained them anything…they didn't understand Harry's function in all of this, and now that Dumbledore was gone they probably never would…

And then, my God, just thinking about what would be involved with helping Harry scared me enough that I must have started grimacing.

"Are you okay?" Mark asked me quietly. We were sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for the meeting to start.

I wanted to scream all of what I had just been thinking about. But, as what usually happens when our emotions are becoming too much to bear, I couldn't bring myself to utter a sound. I simply nodded my head.

"Listen," he was whispering so low I could barely hear, "we're going to get through this."


End file.
